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Ev'n in a monarch's court.—Sit down, I pray:
I am myself a poor repentant sinner,
But, as I trust, a brand saved from the fire.
Then tell thy tale, and give thy sorrows vent:
What can I do for thee?

ROVANI.

I do not for myself entreat thy pity.

But I am come from an unhappy man,
Who, inly torn with agony of mind,
Hath need of ghostly aid.

HERMIT.

I am no priest.

ROVANI.

I know thou art not, but far better, Father,

For that which I entreat thee.
For the cowl'd monk, in peaceful cloisters bred,
Who hath for half a cent'ry undisturb'd
Told o'er his beads;—what sympathy hath he
For perturb'd souls, storm-toss'd i' the wicked world?
Therefore Count Garcio most desires to see thee,
And will to thee alone unlock his breast.

HERMIT.

Garcio, the lord of this domain?

ROVANI.

The same.